


A Hurricane and a Tornado

by icandrawamoth



Series: Rogue Podron Made Me Do It [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Anger, Angry Kissing, Conversations, Emotions, Fights, M/M, Rogue Podron, Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, that escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: When Corran asks Tycho about his past, tensions escalate until the unexpected happens.





	A Hurricane and a Tornado

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently started listening to Rogue Podron, and they keep going on about Corran and Tycho's ~tension~ and my brain went "...yeah, we can try writing that." This is basically an extension/reimagining of the chapter toward the beginning of Wedge's Gamble where they have their talk. A couple lines are quoted/paraphrased. Title from [this](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/20/33/fa/2033faa44c148ee3c038960dcb35e721--hurricane-quotes-the-hurricane.jpg).

Tycho, quite reasonably he thinks, doesn't like thinking about his time in Lusankya or all that came after. So it's difficult when his current situation reminds him of it every moment of every day. Yet when Corran brings up his past, he can't very well be upset. If he were in the other man's place, he would be curious as well: an executive officer who doesn't actually fly with his squadron and is constantly tailed by security isn't exactly standard operating procedure.

So Tycho tells him. He explains what he remembers of Isard's prison. He explains his transfer to Akrit'tar and how he managed to escape. He explains the two months of debriefing he endured. He explains the limitations he's under now and why he chooses to accept them.

And at the end of it, Corran Horn leans back, gives him a hard look and says, “So you don't actually know if you're a sleeper agent or not.”

“I _know_ I'm not,” Tycho responds, frustration curling his hands into fists in his lap. “Being able to prove that is another thing.”

“But there's no real way of knowing,” Corran presses. “Even you wouldn't. You said yourself you don't remember most of your time there.”

“No,” Tycho agrees begrudgingly.

“So you could be a danger. Isard letting you go like that, this whole 'look how honorable and self-sacrificing I am' rigmarole is an excellent cover.”

Tycho grits his teeth. “Are you testing me, Lieutenant Horn?”

The other man's gaze doesn't waver. “Possibly.”

Two years ago, before Lusankya and before the repercussions, he might have taken a swing at Corran to relieve his anger. But he doesn't have that luxury now. He's just finished explaining how he lives under a microscope: any violent action against an ally, however understandable some might find it, will be analyzed and overanalyzed to the point that he'll likely lose his position on Rogue Squadron – a position he wants and which he knows Wedge fought hard to help him get. They both deserve better, but it doesn't mean his fist doesn't itch for contact just the same.

“I've saved your life on two occasions now,” he forces himself to say calmly. “If I were your enemy, why would I do that?”

“To prolong your cover and further ingratiate yourself,” Corran answers without missing a beat. “Because your trigger moment hasn't come yet, and I'm not your target.”

Tycho huffs out an irritated breath. “I'm not going to be able to convince you, am I?”

“If you are Isard's agent, you have may have Commander Antilles and some of the others fooled, but I'm going to keep my eye on you.”

That's enough. Tycho is on his feet in an instant, fists raised instinctively. “I don't have to take this from you.”

“So leave my room,” Corran says coolly. “I'm sure your security detail misses you.”

Almost before he realizes what he's doing, Tycho is yanking Corran out of his chair by his collar, growling in his face. “You don't get it, do you? You lose everything, you give your entire life to this cause, you come back even when no one wants you. You give everything to that fight again because it's all you have, and this” – he gives the other man a jerk – “is how they repay you.”

Icy green eyes stare back at him, holding not the slightest hint of fear or surprise. Of course. Corran was a police officer. This has to be far from the first time he's been in a physical confrontation. He opens his mouth as if to speak, and Tycho braces himself for the next bit of vitriol to come at him.

But then Corran is lurching forward, biting at Tycho's mouth in a touch that can't rightfully be called a kiss, their teeth clacking together before he gets ahold of Tycho's lip. Tycho responds instinctively, the hand in Corran's shirt clenching tighter as he presses back, getting his own tongue in Corran's mouth, taking control for a long moment before jerking away, both of them breathing harshly.

Tycho doesn't let go of him as he demands, “What was that?” His hand on Corran's collar shakes just a little, and he drops it as if burned. “You wanted to get me riled up and then, what? Reel me in for a good, hard fuck?” He hears the anger – the _hurt_ – dripping from his own voice and tries to tamp down on it. “You don't trust me in the air, but you want me in your bed? What do you think this is, _Lieutenant?_ ”

The look in Corran's eyes when he manages to catch them isn't what he expected – instead of pride, defiance, it's something more like...surprise, even a little fear, at his own actions. Like perhaps this hadn't been planned at all.

Tycho deliberately puts a step between them, tries to get on top of the situation, arms folded across his chest in a way he knows is defensive. “I've had enough mind games for one lifetime. I didn't expect to get them from my own squadronmates.”

“ _Kriff!_ ” The Corellian turns away abruptly, hands scrubbing over his face. “I really fragged this up, didn't I?”

Tycho holds his ground. “Answer the question, Lieutenant.”

Corran runs runs a hand through his hair, looking back over at Tycho. “I think you can call me Corran after that.”

Tycho says nothing.

Corran lets out a whooshing sigh and goes on. “You're an intriguing man if nothing else, Cap. Anyone who disagreed would be lying.”

“'Intriguing,'” Tycho repeats tightly.

Corran shrugs, unapologetic. “Attractive, brave, selfless, stubborn, one hell of a pilot: intriguing.”

“And possibly a sleeper agent ready to activate and destroy everything at the worst possible moment,” Tycho adds, bitterness creeping back into his voice.

“Well, if you were in my bed, you'd be naked and unarmed. I'm not so worried about that.” The Corellian dares to crack a smile.

“You may be underestimating my hand-to-hand skills, Corran.”

“You may be underestimating mine, Captain.”

“Tycho is fine.” The man sighs long and loud, pinching the bridge of his nose. He feels he's completely lost track of this conversation. Were they not about to come to blows just moments ago?

“I hate to keep pressing, Tycho,” Corran says, and he actually sounds it this time. "But you understand my concerns, don't you? If everything happened the way you said, we really do have no way of knowing if you're a danger to the squadron and the New Republic or not."

“I'm more than aware of that.” Tycho closes his eyes for a long moment, feeling nothing but tired now that the violent tension between them has drained away.

“I should be sympathetic,” Corran allows, and Tycho sees it for the peace offering it is. “If I were in your position, I would be going crazy.”

Tycho nods. “Thank your lucky stars you aren't.”

“Right. If there's anything I can do...”

Tycho shakes his head. “I really should be going. My security will be missing me.”

Corran twitches at the callback to his earlier comment. “Well, now that the tooka's out of the bag, that invitation is still open.” His tone is carefully measured to sound like he doesn't care one way or the other.

“Perhaps another time, Corran,” Tycho tells him, and is surprised to find he might actually mean it. Corran Horn easily fits the _intriguing_ descriptor as well. “I feel with emotions this high in both of us...now isn't the best time.”

“I understand.” Corran has the good grace to look somewhat abashed.

Tycho finds a smile working its way onto his face. “I am glad we had this conversation, regardless of how sideways it went.”

“The feeling is mutual. I'll be honest, Tycho: this whole thing still makes me nervous. But I have no choice but to trust you for now. You haven't done anything wrong, and I can't fault you for what might happen. Though if something does, I'll do everything in my power to stop you.”

“I wouldn't expect anything less from a Rogue.”

“I'll do my duty. But I still owe you an apology for...” He waves his hand vaguely. “This.”

Tycho shrugs. “What's done is done. And I myself should apologize for roughing you up like I did.”

That actually puts a grin on Corran's face. “I'm not opposed to a bit of roughing up now and then, sir.”

Tycho raises an eyebrow. “I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Lieutenant Horn.”

“Goodnight, Captain.”

Tycho steps out the door, nodding to the two security officers waiting for him, and as he continues down the corridor, they fall into step behind him, silent as ghosts.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Two in the Chaos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159812) by [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth)




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